Rooted in the Plains

Mountains, Tribes, and Truth: Grinnell’s American West

Nicole Blackstock Season 1 Episode 4

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0:00 | 11:23

In this episode of Rooted in the Plains, we follow the life of George “Bird” Grinnell, naturalist, writer and advocate for the American West. From his early days learning under Madam Audubon to his expeditions across Montana and Yellowstone, Grinnell became a key voice in the conservation movement. He worked alongside Indigenous communities, helped found the Audubon and Boone & Crockett Clubs, and fought to preserve places like Glacier National Park. His legacy lives on in the landscapes, stories, and values he helped protect. 

Want to see more? See photos, maps and more glimpses of prairie life on Instagram: @rootedintheplains 

Want to learn more? 

·  B&C Member Spotlight - George Bird Grinnell.” Boone and Crockett Club, April 27, 2023

·  Holman, John P. “George Bird Grinnell.” Journal of Mammalogy 19, no. 3 (1938)

·  Smith, Sherry L. “George Bird Grinnell and the ‘Vanishing’ Plains Indians.” Montana: The Magazine of Western History 50, no. 3 (2000)




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vMountains, Tribes, and Truth: Grinnell’s American West Transcript

Welcome to Rooted in the Plains, a podcast about the people, places, and moments that shape the Great Plains. I'm Nicole, and in each episode, I'll take you back to a time when sod houses lined the prairie, railroads carved through the tall grass, and community meant survival. For photos, maps, and glimpses of plains' life, be sure to follow along on Instagram at rootedintheplains. 

In this episode, we follow the journey of a man whose name may not appear in every textbook, but whose influence echoes through our national park, conservation movements, and the very way we talk about nature today. George Bird Grinnell, an editor, explorer, ethnologist, and advocate, has often been called the father of American conservation. From Brooklyn to the windswept plains of Montana, Grinnell moved through a rapidly changing America, observing, recording, and fighting to protect what others were quick to overlook. We'll walk that path from boyhood, inspired by the Audubons to the birth of the National Audubon Society itself, will explore Grinnell's advocacy for the Native tribes, his foundational role in preserving Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks, and how his pen, more than his pistol, helped shape the West. 

Born on September 20, 1849, in Brooklyn, New York, Grinnell grew up surrounded by stories of the American wilderness. As a young boy, he studied under Madame Audubon, the widow of famed bird artist John James Audubon. Her influence, along with the legacy of her husband's work, left a lasting impression on the boy. It was here that Grinnell first developed a reverence for wildlife and the natural world. By 1870, he had graduated from Yale University, where he studied under paleontologist Othniel Charles Marsh. Side note, Marsh and his crew discovered some dinosaurs you may have heard of. the stegosaurus, triceratops, brontosaurus, just to name a few. These formative experiences, both personal and academic, shaped Grinnell's path. He wasn't just learning about nature, he was being molded to defend it. Just months after graduation, Grinnell joined Professor Marsh on a fossil hunting expedition across the American West. The trip took them through the rugged country rich in bones, stories, and conflict. In 1874, he accompanied Colonel William Ludlow on a survey of the Black Hills, part of the expedition led by the none other General George Armstrong Custer. Grinnell observed both the land and the tensions mounting between the U.S. forces and the Lakota Sioux. The military's treatment of the indigenous people troubled him deeply, although he was not present for the battle of Little Bighorn, the events surrounding it left an imprint. In the following years, he explored the Missouri and the Yellowstone regions, slowly turning from a curious observer to a passionate advocate. These early travels confirmed what he already suspected. The wild places of America were disappearing. And without action, their people, wildlife, and stories might vanish too. From the field, Grinnell returned east. working as an osteology assistant at the Peabody Museum in New Haven. But by 1880, he would trade bones for a different kind of tool, a printing press. By 1880, Grinnell had become the editor of Forest and Stream, a weekly magazine dedicated to outdoor life. Under his leadership, it became something more, a platform for conservation, public awareness, and cultural respect. Through his editorials, Grinnell turned readers' attention to places like Yellowstone, where the poaching and development threatened the park's fragile ecosystem. He wrote not just with concern, but with conviction, pushing conservation from the fringe idea into a national conservation. It was through Forest and Stream that he met a young Theodore Roosevelt. Their first interaction was a bit rocky. Grinnell had sharply criticized Roosevelt's hunting book, But the tension turned into a lasting friendship. The two men shared a love for the wilderness and that belief that it needed to be protected. Together, they founded the Boone and Crockett Club, a coalition of hunters, writers, and scientists who advocated for fair chase and the preservation of wild lands. One of their first successes was blocking a railroad from carving through Yellowstone. They also lobbied for laws that banned removing game, fish, timber, or minerals from protected parks. With a pen in hand and an audience growing, Grinnell's voice carried farther than any expedition. But it was the mountains of Montana and the people who called them home that would become his greatest passion. In 1885, Grinnell traveled to the mountainous regions of northern Montana, land that was at a time part of the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. Rugged, wild, and largely unmapped, by outsiders. This landscape captured Grinnell's heart in a way that no other place had. He returned again and again, hiking deep into the valleys, sketching the peaks, and listening to the stories of the Blackfeet people. Over time, he became fluent in their language and was eventually named an honorary chief. Grinnell didn't just fall in love with the land. He worked to protect it. He named many of the area's features and lobbied tirelessly to have the region set aside as a national park. Crucially, he insisted that the land be purchased with honor and respect for the Blackfeet, not simply taken. His efforts paid off. In 1910, President Taft signed a bill establishing Glacier National Park. Today, Grinnell Glacier, Grinnell Lake, and Grinnell Mountain bear his name, not out of vanity, but as a marker for the man who believed that nature was not just a resource, but a legacy. But his influence didn't just stop at the mountain passes. As we'll see in Grinnell's summers with the Blackfeet, it led him to a deeper understanding of indigenous cultures and a desire to preserve their voices before they were silenced. The summers he spent out west were never idle. He didn't just hike and observe, he listened. He sat with elders, traded stories, and asked questions. What he heard, he recorded. What he didn't understand, he worked tirelessly to translate, sometimes using sign language, sometimes through interpreters, but always with respect. Over time, he built close relationships with the Blackfeet, Cheyenne, and Pawnee. He collected their histories, myths, hunting techniques, and cultural practices, recognizing a way of life was vanishing before his eyes. He purchased items of cultural importance, war bonnets, shields, pipes, not as trophies, but as a way to preserve memories. His writings became some of the earliest and most detailed ethnographies of plains tribes, particularly the Cheyenne. His 1923 book, The Cheyenne Indians, Their History and Ways of Life, is still referenced today. Grinnell's aim was clear, to humanize Native Americans at a time when policy and public opinion treated them as obstacles to progress. The Blackfeet will become civilized, he once wrote, but at a terrible cost. He wanted readers, especially Easterners, to see Indigenous people not as caricatures, but as communities with deep traditions, wisdom, and dignity. His work straddled two worlds, the scientific and the personal, the observer and the advocate. He wasn't perfect, no outsider chronicling native life ever is, but he tried. He listened, he learned, and he left behind not just books, but a blueprint for empathetic understanding. Grinnell co-founded the original Audubon Society, named in honor of John James Audubon, the famed painter and naturalist whose widow taught him as a boy. Though Grinnell never met Audubon, his influence was clear. He wanted a Americans to see what Audubon saw, not just birds and animals, but beauty, wonder, and the need for protection. We are a water-drinking people, Grinnell once wrote, and we are allowing every brook to be defiled. It was a warning far ahead of its time, and one that still resonates today. The society he helped create would eventually evolve into the National Audubon Society, but its roots trace back to Grinnell's editorials. His advocacy and his belief that preserving natural heritage was a duty not an option. Through his writing, his leadership and his partnerships with both native communities and fellow conservationists, Grinnell, helped shape the national ethic of care, one that encouraged Americans to see nature not as something to conquer but as something to protect. He helped define the very idea of conservation before it had a name. He gave a voice to the people who were being silenced. He did so not by standing apart, but by standing beside, listening, learning, and advocating. As we face our own environmental crossroads, rising temperatures, vanishing species, and polluted water, Grinnell's message is still loud and clear, that beauty is worth saving, and truth is worth telling, even when it's complicated. Because the story of this land isn't told through deeds and documents. It's told through those who dared to care for it. Thanks for listening to Rooted in the Plains. I hope you learned something new today. For photos, maps, and a little glimpse of plains life, visit the Instagram page Rooted in the Plains. And if you enjoyed this episode and want to dig a little deeper, check out the show notes for additional readings and a full list of sources used in this episode. Thanks